


Eliksni Style Booty Call

by DesertDraggon



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Double Penetration, Eliksni have heat, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Other, Teratophilia, kidnap, not really dubious but dubious consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:21:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21672868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertDraggon/pseuds/DesertDraggon
Summary: Heat isn't the most pleasant thing for an Eliksni who has no desire to mate; for personal reasons. Mazan's entourage decide to help him out, much to Devrim's dismay.
Relationships: Devrim Kay/Mazan the Lost
Comments: 1
Kudos: 56





	Eliksni Style Booty Call

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Mazan the Lost is NOT an OC! He's actually the boss of the Widow's Walk lost sector in Trostland, who I took affinity to and well, decided to give a Main Character Spa Treatment to. So, say hi to Mazan for me the next time you're in the EDZ!

"Mazan!" 

"No."

"Mazan, you're going to get us killed if you keep this up." The Captain got a scowl, her input clearly not welcome. To be scolded by your underlings would've been an insult to other clan barons, but Mazan always let it slide. He usually felt it humbled him. Emphasis on usually. 

Right now though, his right hand little shit, Kithaas, has been chastising him like a recently matured Eliksniling. It was grating on his currently fragile nerves. 

"I have handled my heat fine for a hundred and more erans…" he began to defend, before he was so rudely interrupted.

"Yes! And 50 and more of those you were housed by a Kell who laid you every cycle! You have only mated once since the fall of your House-"

Mazan growled in warning to his Captain as she encroached upon the Forbidden Topic. She snapped her jaw shut, crossing her arms. "I apologize. But you are an Eliksni who is used to being mated when in heat. You manage it terribly otherwise. Your thoughts are muddled. You are far too tired…"

She sidled to him, purring. "I am simply worried. I do not want harm to come of you because you won't simply get railed." 

"Railed?" 

"Guardian term I overheard. Means to get-"

"Yes I understand it's context, thank you." Mazan snapped. This was frustrating. It's not that he doesn't want to… get railed… he just, can't bear the thought of bearing more young just to have Duskkel crush them before him again. It hurt, to lose such lives. His children. He'd lost so many when his house fell… and now to have his new house's Kell throw them away to force his loyalty? 

"I cannot risk having young." 

With a deep sigh, Kithaas stroked her Baron's shoulder. She knew his plight well. His only living young from the attack was a good friend to her. There was always another way though… "Why not mate with one who cannot bear or give?"

Mazan side eyed her as he tore himself away from her touch- "We have no elder… and I will not mate with an Eliksniling… that would be disgusting." The other cringed at his response, grimacing. 

"No! Not that! I mean… why not find a friendly Guardian?" She suggested, getting another of many glares from Mazan. She was used to his stubborn behavior, but it only got worse during his heat. She had it in her rights to be concerned. "There are some who, well, have an interest in us." She explained further, teasing that she knew such a few Guardians who would be interested.

"Why in the sweetest light of the great machine, would I mate with an undead monstrous thief?!" Mazan sneered, huffing as he sulked away. He was done with this conversation before it even started. This wasn't what he wanted to be dealing with right now.

"You need relief, you're only hurting yourself! Damn it, Mazan! Mazan!" The door to his room hissed shut, locking the annoyance out and muffling her equally annoyed howls. After a moment of some much needed silence, Mazan started shoving off his armor. He took his time undoing the straps, making sure to relish the loss of the heavy plastisteels weight. Once bare, he tiredly slunk across his room and practically melted into his nest. Eyes too heavy to keep open long.

Using one of his dorsal claws, he grabbed a cool arc sack, dragging it into the nest with him to try and sooth the sweaty heap he was. It helped slightly, the sack pressed to his chest was so very refreshing. Maybe… maybe he could just lock himself away and sleep it off. He didn't have long until heat was over, right? 

Yeah…

Yeah… he'd just sleep it off. 

_-_--_-_

Normally at this hour, Devrim would be setting on a pot to make some nice soothing chamomile tea, and grabbing a book to pass the time. Normally his night patrols were very somber and slow. He could relax, take it easy, and catch some much needed rest. 

Tonight was not normal.

Tonight his communications tech had been sabotaged. His tea spilled across the old wooden floor. His books scattered about. And him? Well he was currently on the run from a mob of Fallen who had decided to pay dear old Dev a visit. 

Out of breath, exhausted, and getting no further away, he slid into an old cabinet, closing it behind him and sinking to the back. He couldn't keep running. The vandals had tired him out, almost purposefully. 

They were absolutely toying with him. Their shots only grazed him. Their Captain leading from behind so very casually, like she knew he'd tire out eventually and make an easy catch. And there was the other shoe! They clearly wanted to detain him, otherwise he'd already be dead before he'd gotten this far from his post. 

Footsteps kicked around outside the cabinet. Glass crunched and rubble rolled as the small group padded through the ruin. The rifleman held his breath, watching the faint light underneath the door become eclipsed by the shadows of legs passing by. 

As the steps grew farther away, he could hear his heart pounding louder, anxious for this moment to be finally over. He let out a sigh in relief once he was fairly certain the Fallen had moved on, sliding down the wall, his legs practically giving out under him. He'd rest here, hidden, for a while longer. Find a way back to his post or… maybe he should stop by one of his other spots. Stay there for a little while. At least until he could get transport to the Farm. 

His plans were good, normally. Unfortunately it had already been established that tonight wasn't going to be normal by any standards. The door cracked open just a smidgen, catching Devrim off guard, as a grenade was tossed inside. He tried to kick it away before the door closed once more, but it was too late. It had already started filling the cabinet with gas. 

He scrambled up, looking for any way out. Devrim felt his lungs start to burn and pulled his shirt up to cover his nose and mouth as he searched the dark dirty room. He was failing to find an exit, panic setting in he turned to shoving himself against the door over and over. He called out, clawed at the handle, but to no prevail. 

Moving got harder, his body felt heavy, like he was carrying dead weight. His eyes watered and burned, making it hard to keep them open. He flung himself against the door one last time before sliding to the ground. Completely unconscious.

-_--_--_-

Weaving somewhere between consciousnesses, Mazan tossed in his nest. Too hot. Too cold. Too lumpy. Not lumpy enough. It was more exhausting to sleep than it was anything else at this point. For the hundredth time he awoke, grumbling as he crossed his chamber to fetch his flask and guzzle some cool water. This time though, he found it dry, as he had already drank the last of it. 

With a frustrated sigh, he contemplated just crawling back into his sweaty heap of a nest. No, no. He would just end up in the same situation he was in. Instead, he settled on suffering a trip to the rations hall. He'd just bring back more water than usual… and some snacks. 

When the doorway hissed open, he expected one of his captains, there to pester him (Or seduce him. Garkax has been suggesting they mate together. Mazan would rather eat his own arms.) But the passageway was blissfully vacant. 

Good.

Before he left, Mazan threw on a ratty old shawl that he'd had since he was a Marauder. It still bore House Winter's sigil, though faded with time. It was one of the few things he had from his old life. Somehow, it had stayed with him. A trusty companion. Now decent, he made his way across the ship.

Water. And snacks. Then directly back to sleep. That was the plan. 

-_--_-

Coming to had felt like a mistake all in its own right. The headache Devrim was sporting, and how sore his arms and legs were from being bound so tightly, left the man feeling something of a late night party where he drank far too much and got into a silly situation. Granted, this was no silly situation… he was probably about to die. Any who, he's had some adventures in his life, at least he had fun while it lasted. 

Didn't make this mess feel any better though.

Wherever he was… or well… whatever he could actually see, other than a smooth metal floor, was fairly dark. There were shapes, perhaps piles of junk, but other than that- the light was abysmal! To a Fallen, it was probably fine, but to his old eyes? As sharp as they were, Dev was out of luck if he wanted his escape to be easy. 

Out of luck seemed to be right, because just then a door hissed open behind him, casting a menacing shadow of what could only be a Baron Captain entering the room. His breath hitched, and he froze (like he had much room to move to begin with) hoping and praying that the light would see him through this. 

The door shut once again. 

He was plunged back into darkness. 

\--_-_--

The first note, that something was particular, was the absence of anyone on his trip to the mess. Not a scutter could be heard. Not a single eye blinking back at him. On one hand, it was pleasant to not be disturbed on his trip to get a damn drink. On the other, it disturbed him in a way that made his flesh-shell crawl. Something was up. 

Mazan made it back to his room without incident, which helped can his nerves. Maybe they were just… doing what? There was nothing to do that didn't involve fighting Guardians, themselves, the Cabal, or the Taken! Especially anything that didn't require himself overseeing it. 

Whatever it was- he hoped as he shut the door to his chamber and promptly locked it- it would leave him be. 

That's when he heard it.

The smallest noise.

Something soft scraping against the floor. 

It wasn't long, very short and suddenly gone. Nonetheless it had Mazan slamming the switch to his lights like his life depended on it, his scruff bristling in alarm and making him look all the big Baron he was. 

Just to find… that… on his floor. 

The human was facing away from him, clearly trying to wriggle out of the plastisteel cables they had been bound in. For a moment Mazan was wholly confused, and shocked, and well a whole list of other things before he finally remembered.

'Why not with a Guardian?' 

"Kithaas." He growled, palming his face with a very very very upset sigh. He was going to kill her. This was it. This was the moment he snapped. 

A small sound coming from the human drew his attention back to the poor thing. Sure the 'poor thing' was probably a murderer and most likely a guardian just waiting to unleash hell and send Mazan to his grave, but he couldn't help but feel bad for this mess. The human had no idea they had been brought here just so Mazan would finally… uhg. What a disaster. 

What in the Great Machine's name was he going to do? Just… release them? Where? He'd get attacked by either the captive or their rescue! What was he going to-

"Hello?" The human… they had uttered the word with perfect pronunciation. Well, as perfect as one could get with such different vocal chords from an Eliksni. 

Mazan cautiously approached. He made sure to be slow, and work himself into the captive's direct line of sight. Once he could see the human's face, eyes wide with fear, eye fur furrowed in determination, he stopped. 

"Hello." He greeted back, just as confused as the human was. 

"Why did you capture me?" The captive demanded, his shoulders bunching in defense, ready for attack. 

"I didn't." He hoped the human would believe him. "I apologize. You were taken without my command. I have no use for a captive human. Or guardian."

"I'm not a guardian? If you kill me I'll-" Mazan put a hand up to halt the human's panic. 

"I'm not going to kill you." He reassured. "I'm going to let you go now." Mazan really, really just wanted to go back to sleep. His body was already far too hot again, and having this extra 'excitement' on top of it? 

He couldn't just tear away the bonds and let him go, the human would just get killed or recaptured. With a sigh, he went with step one anyways. This human, one who could speak in Eliksni tongue, intrigued him. If this were any other day, he'd welcome the mystery… but today? He wasn't in the mood. 

Devrim stilled, allowing the Baron to release his binds. The giant was surprisingly gentle for a mortal enemy. Curious, Devrim studied Mazan some more. 

He wore a different banner… but clearly he was of Dusk. His posture seemed tense, but more in a- I just had to do 50 laps up and down the Tower tunnels and I could really use a bubble bath -kind of way, rather than Meet Thine Enemy. He… smelled different too. Weird thing to notice, but it was there nonetheless.

As soon as the plastisteel bonds were removed, Devrim slowly stood, rubbing his aching wrists. Mazan simply tossed the cuffs in a pile of tech-garbage that rattled unnervingly. 

"Thank- Thank you." The rifleman worked out- his Eliksni then was rough. It wasn't a phase he had heard often enough to remember how it was pronounced. Mazan bowed his head in response, before motioning to the door. 

"I will guide you out. You'll need to stay clo- ahk!" Suddenly, Mazan collapsed. He shook with the tremors of his heat, claws digging into the earthy ground below him as he groaned. 

The human surprisingly rushed to his side in alarm. Mazan waved him off though, struggling to stand.

"Are you alright? What's going on?" Devrim asked, brows furrowed in a way his daughter would recognize as pure fatherly concern and a will to help that could not be stopped by the Traveller itself. 

And… it worked its charm. Somehow.

Mazan slumped, legs suddenly feeling much weaker. Head feeling light and woozy. "I do not think you would understand…" he started, and Devrim, being who he is, simply tilted his head with the permission to Spill The Beans. "...but I will try." 

He moved to sit, practically collapsing into his nest. Devrim, unsure of what to do with himself (light, this is a weird ass night) simply stood before him, arms crossed. 

"Eliksni have set times in which we copulate. I am currently experiencing my heat."

"And how does this play into me ending up on your floor, exactly?" Devrim asked, despite knowing the probable answer. 

"My charges are concerned about my well being. It is unhealthy for one not to mate or bond during their heat. I… do not wish to do so for… personal reasons." The explanation was awkward. A human. An enemy. In his bedroom. And he was giving him a biology lesson. Machine, give him strength. 

"And…?" Egged the rifleman, clearly just as uncomfortable about this. 

"They thought, to take one I couldn't copulate with fully, and gift it to me to… mate with… without repercussions." 

It was as he thought. Devrim rubbed a hand down his face, stopping to scratch his beard as he looked around the room. Anywhere but Mazan as he thought this through. 

"So, I got kidnapped for a booty call… certainly not the first time it's happened." He sighed. Mazan hummed in a rather uncomfortable way, causing Devrim to turn back to the Baron. Now he was visibly shaking, his skin-shell taking in a sheen of sweat. "You…" he started, but stopped midway, undecided.

Mazan seemed to curl into himself, not paying attention to the other. Devrim weighed his options yet again. 

He could;  
A. Try to escape on his own. No protection. No guide.  
B. Wait out Mazan's heat so the Baron could help him escape.  
C. … have a little fun? 

Well… fuck it. Might as well go with C. 

Devrim unzipped his hoodie, pulling it off and dropping it to the floor. Then he sat down to remove his boots, then his belt. Mazan hadn't noticed anything just yet. Perfect.

Approaching the other, Devrim reached out for Mazan, his fingers sliding along chitinous cheeks and lifting Mazan's head. The Baron's sea foam eyes wavered, confused. 

"Look, why don't I help you out?" Devrim supplied, thumb gently stroking Mazan's jaw. He tried not to let his nervousness show. The Eliksni frowned, conflicted in his own right about the situation. 

"I don't… I don't know." He muttered, finding himself leaning into the touch the other provided. "It feels wrong." He went rigid for a moment. "Not- not like that, not as we are different, but as… we are enemies and this is something intimate. I cannot force this on another." 

Devrim hummed, understanding what the Baron meant. "Then, tonight, we are not enemies. And I can assure you, this is entirely with my consent." He reassured, lifting his other hand to the Eliksni's face. They stared at one another for a moment. Bated breath waiting for who would be brave enough to make a move.

A kiss, light and quick, graced Mazan's muzzle. Devrim pulled back with a soft smile, the corners of his eyes wrinkling genuinely. His eyes portrayed wholesome trust in the other.

And Mazan drifted like he was Ether-drunk into Devrim. Two of his arms pulled the man close, while the others supported him as he leaned back, letting Devrim settle in his lap. 

As they began touching one another, the rifleman let Mazan finish undressing him. His four hands making quick work of his shirt, and his trouser buttons. It was there Devrim was flipped around and pushed to the nest, sinking into its soft folds as he let the Baron pull down his trousers. 

He couldn't say if he was anxious or excited. This was going just as well as any other fling he'd have had gone, but Devrim still wasn't sure what he was in store for. Mazan still had naught but the shawl that was wrapped about his shoulders, but still Devrim couldn't discern any… sex characteristics? Mazan's softer skin seemed to shimmer, but he assumed that was from sweat. It was enticing to watch the sliver of dark thistle ripple with the sheen, to say the least.

Mazan huffed in annoyance at Devrim's pants, going straight for them before the human could react. It felt like ripping off a bandage… except it was having your junk out for an alien who had very different junk than you and was probably-

"Only one?" The Baron questioned with a chuckle, pulling Devrim's attention back to him. He slid his secondary hands back up Devrim's thighs gently, giving Dev chills.

"You have more than one?"

"Two."

"Oh."

Oh.

Well that… wasn't a bad oh. For sure. Especially with how Devrim's own 'oh' throbbed a bit in arousal. 

Mazan purred, deep and guttural. He watched the shiver run through the human at the noise, pleased. He sat back on his haunches to tease the slit his gonopods resided. He wasn't sure this human could even satisfy him the way he needed while in heat. How would they work? Clearly there were no gonopores to tuck into. This was going to be interesting. 

After playing with himself for a moment, his phallai finally emerged, slipping out of the wet dripping slip in their bio-luminescent glory. Two long, thick, tapered gonopod-like dicks. The tips speckled in a lighter purple, their translucence showing the vibrant beads of cum threatening to dribble out. 

Devrim was quiet below him, staring in awe as the Baron stroked the cocks out of the secret slit. His own cock twitched again in excitement. His brain twitched in fear. Those were… huge. 

Were they writhing? 

Oh light above… the rational part of him said.  
Oh hell yes… the horny part of him said. 

The secondary hands danced along Devrim's hips, caressing the firm yet wrinkly flesh there, thumbs dragging their claws along his pelvic line. A gasp filled the rifleman's lungs and his eyes fluttered at the sensation. 

"How do we…" the question left the captain quietly. Devrim focused again, of course they had to have a little sex ed. They hardly knew what could go where! 

"Well ah, I have a, uhm, place? You can put them in?" Devrim started. He didn't quite know the word for his rear, or do it would be too gross to suggest a thing. Mazan cocked his head in confusion. 

"Here, I'll show you and start stretching it out." He shuffled around, moving to his hands and knees. "Do you have a lubricant?" He asked before he went and spit into his hand. 

"Oh, of course…" the Baron leaned over Devrim, his weight very present along the human's back. He was warm, and rough. But it was… nice? Mazan pulled back, slipping a canisters of slick to his bed-mate. "This is what we use." 

"That works, this may take -ah- just a bit." He dipped his fingers into the mixture and began slathering it onto his asshole. Mazan watched, utterly entranced as the rifleman fingered himself, working his hole open as wide as possible. He grew impatient, but let Devrim prepare. This human was far smaller than him, he had to hold back in whatever way he could, or risk killing the poor thing. 

Poor thing- uhg- of course he was thinking if a human like this in his heat. He shook that thought from his head. They were enemies. They were simply helping one another. Right. 

Devrim moaned as he pulled himself apart. He felt as loose as he could ever be. At first he had imagined he was doing this for Marc, or one of his flings, but after a while… hearing the Huff's of the giant baron behind him. The warm presence that loomed, that watched with four searing eyes. He groaned again, thinking of those four hands that were sliding along his body. 

What was he thinking? Why would he even do this? The excitement and disgust made for an interesting concoction of emotions. Brushing that aside to unpack it later, he pulled his hands away, looking back Mazan. 

"I should be ready for you…" he breathed, noticing the Eliksni had his eyes on Devrim's behind as he palmed his erections. 

He seemed hesitant at first- only voicing his concern after a moment of awkward stillness. "Am I- you want me to out my gonopods in there?" 

The question almost caught Devrim off guard, but he practically expected it. "Yes! Yes. Uh. You just slip them in nice and easy, then pull out just a tad, then thrust right back in and repeat." He instructed. 

"Hm…" Mazan wasn't sure of this, but he was desperate at this point. His body was shaking and it took all of his willpower to hold steady and just learn. 

With a deep breath, Mazan positioned himself behind Devrim. His primary arms keeping him up, while his secondary helped pull Devrim's hips into his cocks. Just the tips didn't feel like much, due to their tapered shape, so it took a moment before the two were feeling much of anything at all. 

The warm tightness felt astounding to Mazan, and Devrim himself chased the feeling of being filled in such a strange but satisfying way. Both cocks slid in smoothly, only causing Devrim mild distress. They were oh so long, and so much thicker the closer to the base. It was not unlike that time with Lord Shaxx where he- well, that was a story for another time. 

"Oh!" Devrim cried out in surprise as the gonopods began to squirm slightly, shifting. It was weird and hot as all hell to have them squirming inside him. 

"Sh- uhn… should I move?" Mazan asked, voice soft and heavy in the rifleman's ear. 

"Please-" he practically begged, his fingers curling into the nest layers. Finally, it seemed the nervous energy evolved into pure lust. 

The Baron pulled out and thrust back in, starting slow, but quickly gaining pace. He hadn't realized how good this was actually going to feel. Devrim keened below him as he collapsed, letting the Eliksni pull his hips to impale him on his cocks, over and over again. 

The air grew stuffy, smelling of sweat and pheromones, and the walls echoed with Devrim's moans and Mazan's growls. The Baron found himself hunching over the Human, almost losing all sense. He couldn't help himself. He needed this relief. He needed to breed so badly. He wished to be held down and fucked by a Kell he loved, like he was doing to this poor man. But… fate found him here instead. 

At least the human didn't seem to mind much. He pulled Devrim's head back glimpsing the bliss in his face before burying his muzzle in the rifleman's neck, scenting him. He smelled of dirt and gunpowder. Of a light floral. Oh how he craved to become it and let it mingle with his own. 

Mazan's teeth ached to sink into the flesh, to mark this human as his, but with his last shred of control, he refrained. 

Devrim used one to hand slowly pumped his own cock He had already cum once, and felt another orgasm nearing. His other hand gripped the wrist of one of Mazan's arms that supported him, thumb stroking the softer skin between plates of chitin. He let himself enjoy the ride, keeping pace with the bucking of his own hips to meet Mazan's. 

Closer and closer to the edge the Baron found himself, growling and purring sweet dirty nothing's in Devrim's ear. The human wasn't far off himself, his thighs shaking with exhaustion from how long his captor had been slamming into him. Mazan's hands began to wander, clutching at the plush spots of chub the rifleman sported, enjoying the feeling of such soft skin. 

Devrim orgasmed first, groaning till he was out of breath, his legs threatening to give in. He turned his head to face Mazan, to watch as the Eliksni lost himself in their ravish. Soon Mazan spilled, both cocks filling Devrim deep. So deep, and so full. 

The warmth and pressure of it made Devrim cum dry, finally forcing his legs to give out and refuse to keep him up. Thankfully the massive Baron held him tight. He trembled in bliss and relief as he emptied his load. 

It seemed like ages before it was over. Both parties panting, shaking, sweating heaps. Mazan let his gonopods retract, the slime slicking the outside of their slit. He grimaced and tiredly dug around for a cloth to wipe himself down. Once complete, he moved to wipe the mess from Devrim's leaking behind, and the cum sticky on his sheets. 

Devrim almost wheezed as he was re-positioned, Mazan shifting him to a more comfortable position before settling in beside him. 

He couldn't help but curl into the chest of the Baron, fingers finding their way around his midsection, along the cracks of chitin to caress the softer flesh beneath. It made Mazan shiver. 

They lay in silence for a while, entangled with one another. It wasn't long before sleep began to overtake the two strange love-makers. 

"Thank you…" whispered Mazan, stroking Devrim's short hair. Devrim hummed in response, the sound deep, as his voice was sore. 

Utterly spent, and now comfortable as they ever could be, they fall asleep in one another's arms. 

'Escape,' Devrim thought briefly; 'Can wait a little while.'


End file.
